


between a rock and a soft place

by themuslimbarbie



Category: DCU, Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Explicit Language, F/M, Fuckbuddies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 16:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15295083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themuslimbarbie/pseuds/themuslimbarbie
Summary: “We should have sex,” Maze says.Pierce snorts. “Yeah, sure. I'll get right on that.”





	between a rock and a soft place

**Author's Note:**

  * For [coreoftheabyss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreoftheabyss/gifts).



> Canon divergent at some point. Don't think too hard about it.

“We should have sex,” Maze says.

Pierce snorts. “Yeah, sure. I'll get right on that.”

She means it. She's hot. He's hot. It’d be hot. Besides, they've got nothing else interesting going on. Why not have some fun?

He rolls his eyes. Him and her? No way that's happening.

 

 

 

They have sex.

 

 

 

“We shouldn't do that again,” he says.

She rolls her eyes. “You know, for an immortal guy, you sure don't know how to live.”

Still, he has a point. Lucifer won’t be happy about it – which, okay, actually, is probably a reason to take the old caveman for another spin. But there’s also Decker and she probably won’t like it and she and Maze have that whole roommate thing going on.

So, whatever. She won’t fuck him again.

It’s no sweat off her back. She can get someone else next time. Especially now that she’s already taken him for a ride or two or four. It's out of her system.

 

 

 

“Okay,” he pants as she rolls off of him. “If this is going to keep happening, we should at least keep it between the two of us. No telling anyone else.”

She props herself up by the elbow and looks at him lazily. “You’re hot, caveman, but not anything worth bragging over.”

He raises a brow and looks at her, half way between offended and amused. “Really?” he asks. “Because that’s not the impression you gave me just now. Or the other day. Or the night before. Or…”

“Pity,” she cuts him off. “That’s all this is.”

He chuckles, deep and throaty, in a way that’s hotter than it should be and Maze is suddenly overcome with this urge to punch him. On the mouth. With her mouth.

His arm snakes over her body, his bicep pressing into her waist. “Well then, Mazikeen,” he says, his lips grazing her ear, his breath hot and heavy as he says her name. “How,” he asks as his hand slides down past her waist. “Will I ever repay you?”

Maze gasps and swallows her tongue before she has a chance to reply.

 

 

 

Linda takes one look at her the next morning and smirks.

“Looks like someone had a good night,” she says.

Maze takes her coffee and downs the whole mug in one go. The way it burns down her throat reminds her of home and instantly relaxes her.

“I always have a good night,” she says casually.

“True, but this time something seems different.”

“Nothing’s different,” Maze says, swiping Linda’s toast off her plate. “Just another meat bag getting the job done. That’s all.”

Linda looks at her in a way that makes it clear she doesn’t believe her.

 

 

 

“What’s the deal with the rocks?” Maze asks. “You planning on opening a museum or something?”

He snorts as he hands her a glass of whiskey. Casually, he says, “We all have our hobbies. You like knives. I like rocks.”

She frowns. “Okay, caveman, I know you did not just compare _my_ _knives_ to some crusty old _rocks_.”

He leans against the wall and looks at her, studying her for just a moment too long. Then smirks and takes a sip of his drink.

“And what if I did? What are you going to do about it, _Mazikeen_?”

 

 

 

“Fuck,” he says afterwards.

She smirks. “Well, yeah. That is what that’s called.”

He rolls his eyes. But then takes a breath and sits up. He glances back at her, only half dressed in his bed, and asks,

“How do you feel about burgers?”

 

 

 

“You know could have just ordered your own fries?” he grumbles when she swipes some off his plate.

She waves the fry in his face and explains, “Food is better off someone else’s plate.” Then, with her mouth half full, asks, “So what’s the deal with the rocks?”

He stares, clearly surprised, and raises a brow. After a beat, he says, “Drinks, dinner, personal questions. Careful, Mazikeen. This is starting to feel suspiciously like a date.”

“Hah!” she faux-laughs. “Don’t flatter yourself, caveman.”

He smirks, leans back in his chair, and takes a sip of his beer. “Whatever you say.”

 

 

 

“Do they mean something?” she asks the next time. “Does each rock represent a person you’ve killed?”

He isn't even slightly phased by the question. He just takes her jacket and says, “Not even close.”

She frowns and eyes a particularly boring looking one on his display. Because he has a display. Of rocks. In his apartment.

And she’s supposed to act like that’s normal? Yeah right.

“So what's the deal then?”

“Huh,” he says a little too smugly, “I didn't know you cared so much, Mazikeen. It's sweet.”

She spins around so quickly that her ponytail nearly whips him. “I don't _care_.”

“Okay,” he says. “Then you won't mind if I don't answer.”

“Fine,” she says. “Don't. I don't care.”

“Fine,” he says. “Then I won't.”

“Fine,” she scowls.

“Fine,” he smirks.

 

 

 

“What do you know about rocks?”

Linda raises a brow. “I’m going to need you to be a bit more specific.”

Maze rolls her eyes. “This guy I’ve been sleeping with collects rocks and I can’t figure out why.”

“Wait…” Linda says slowly doing that funny eyebrow scrunching thing humans do with when they’re are confused. “ _What_?”

“Yeah,” Maze says. “He just has them displayed around his place. I asked him about it but he won’t give me a real answer. That's weird, right?”

Linda grins. “Actually, I’m more interested in the part where you’re invested in what this guy likes,” she says. “Maze, are you _dating_ him?”

“What?” she says, nearly choking on her drink. “No! Absolutely not! This just about the sex.”

“He must be one hell of a lay for you to be this interested in his… _rocks_.”

Maze glares.

Linda smirks.

“Shut up.”

Linda laughs

 

 

 

Maze _absolutely_ isn’t _dating_ him.

They're just fucking around. Literally.

He's not even that great in bed. It’s just that he’s there and gets the job done. Sure, he's nice to look at, but you can blame her for that one. Yeah, sure, his hair's a mess, but she can work with that. Especially when he's got those arms that are bigger than Lucifer's entire torso and that little smirk that she's pretty sure she's only seen him do when they're alone.

And, yeah, sometimes they get dinner or drinks before or after they do said fucking. Plus, _okay_ , sometimes he sends her pictures of creative weapon choices he comes across in his cases. And, sure, she may reply with some pictures of rocks.

But that does not mean they're _dating_.

 

 

 

“Here’s the thing,” Maze starts, pushing past him to get into the house. “The whole point of dating is to get ass. And I was already getting yours. So this thing we’ve been doing is _by definition_ not dating.”

He stares at her for a beat and then another. Finally he asks, “Is that why you came over here? To tell me that we’re _not_ dating?”

“Uh, yeah,” she says impatiently. “Weren't you listening, caveman? Or is that something you humans didn't evolve into until later?”

“Mazikeen,” he groans in a not fun way, “It is _three in the morning_.”

“And?”

He shakes his head. “I’m going back to bed.” He starts to walk away, but only makes it a few steps before he sighs. He doesn't turn back around when he asks, “Are you coming?”

She pauses and purses her lips.

“Fine,” she says almost defiantly and walks past him to the bedroom. “But only because I don’t want to hear Decker bitching about me coming in so late. Trix has school tomorrow.”

“Of course.”

 

 

 

They sleep in the same bed and don’t have sex.

But more importantly: they sleep in the same bed and don’t have sex and _Maze doesn’t mind._

 

 

 

“Wow,” Linda says.

“I know,” she says. “It’s weird. Who _does_ that?”

Linda presses her lips but the smile is still obviously there. “Well, you see, Maze, sometimes when a person likes another person…”

Maze stabs the table with her knife, which only barely makes Linda jump this time. “ _Like_?” she asks as disgusted as she can muster. “Who said anything about _liking_ him? I told you: it's only about the sex.”

Linda raises a brow. “Okay, well, the whole voluntarily sleeping in a bed _without_ having sex thing kind of says otherwise. Plus, the whole thing where you’re into his rocks.”

Maze glares. “Shut up.”

Linda grins. “Not a chance. So are you going to tell me who he is?”

“No,” Maze says, more so out of stubbornness than anything else. “Not a chance.”

“Spoilsport,” Linda pouts.

 

 

 

 

The next time she's hunting a bounty out in San Francisco, she doesn't get him the rock because she's thinking about him or anything ridiculous like that. And definitely not because she sees the damned thing and immediately thinks it would go perfectly with the collection he keeps in the living room. And she absolutely doesn't do it because she kind of misses him and his dumb human hobby of collecting fucking rocks.

Really.

It's a ploy, she tells herself, as she packs the stupid thing in her bag. She's just doing it to get him to spill the dirt on the whole collecting rocks thing. Not that she's invested in that backstory, because she's not. It's just the principle of the thing. She needs to know that she can break him if she wants to. That's all.

And she definitely doesn't leave the rock under her pillow when he's in the shower because she's too embarrassed to actually hand the damned thing to him.

 

 

 

“I like rocks,” he says when he calls her. On the freaking phone like some sort of prehistoric caveman. “They’re old and don’t change. But more importantly, they can’t die on me. Having them around is… comforting. Makes it a little less lonely when everyone else leaves.”

She isn’t sure what the hell she expected the explanation to be, but it sure as hell wasn’t that. Maybe she expected something more complex, dangerous, badass.

Something more intense than having a weirdly _emotional connection_ to _rocks_ of all things.

It makes sense though, in that fucked up kind of way that he operates under.

Not that she's going to admit that to him.

“Don’t tell me the big bad Father of Murder is secretly sentimental,” she says instead.

He laughs softly and she realizes a beat too late that she’s smiling. She almost forces a scowl before she remembers that he can't actually see her. So she stands there, not even knowing how to hold her damn face because of him.

“Well, Mazikeen,” he says so gently that she pushes the phone closer to her ear. “I guess even the toughest of us have our soft spots.”

A beat passes and she thinks she feels something hot and smoldering in the pits of her stomach. Thing is, she can't tell if burns in the good or bad kind of way. The way that reminds her of Hell or of Earth.

“Yeah, well,” she says, breaking the silence. “Speak for yourself. Sentiment is so human.”

“Of course,” he says, almost playfully. “I wouldn't expect anything else from you.”

What the _hell_ is that supposed to mean?

 

 

 

The next time a bounty takes her out of town, she picks up another stupid rock and hides it under his kitchen sink.

It's gone the next time she comes over, and she finds it in the living room, displayed with the rest of his collection.

The time after that, she hides one in his coat closet and it takes him two days to find it. The one after that goes under his bed but only takes twelve hours for him to find. The one she hides behind some books on a shelf takes him almost five days to find.

It becomes this weird ass unspoken game they play, with her bringing him rocks and him having to find them. But it's only a game. Nothing more.

 

 

 

“Uh, what's this?” he asks when she hands him the glass.

She smirks and takes a sip of her drink. “Don't tell me the old age is getting to your sight. It's whiskey. On the rocks.”

“Mazikeen, these are literal rocks.”

“I thought you were into that kind of thing,” she says with a smirk. “Isn't that how you did it back in the day, caveman?”

She expects him to rolls his eyes and make himself another drink. For a beat, she thinks he will. Instead, he stares at her and smirks back. Then, without breaking eye contact, he drinks the entire thing.

When he kisses her, that burning feeling in her core suddenly feels like it's on fire and even she knows she can't blame that on the alcohol.

 

 

 

Fuck.

It's totally more than a game.

 _Fuck_. 

 

 

 

*Wow,” Linda says when Maze finally admits it. ”You and Pierce. _Huh_. I did not see that one coming.”

Maze groans and plops down on her couch, kicking her feet up on the armrests. “It’s weird. I should break it off.”

“Hold on a minute,” Linda says and does that thing where she crosses her leg over the other that makes her look like a sexy therapist. “Just because I didn't see it coming doesn't mean it's bad. And just because it's weird doesn't mean you should end it. Because, let's be real, normal is a human thing you're not even interested in.”

She frowns and kicks herself up to a seated position. “Yeah, this whole shrink thing,” she says gesturing to Linda. “Is not something I want to do right now.”

Linda pauses and studies her for a moment, peering at Maze over her glasses. Finally, she shrugs. “Fair enough,” she says, and uncrosses her leg and leans forward. “Then let's do the friend thing because I'm going to need all dirty details on this.”

Maze laughs. “Nuh-uh. No way. I don't kiss and tell.”

“Since _when_?” Linda cries. “You always tell me everything!”

She smirks. “Since you're begging for the details. It's more entertaining this way.”

“Maze!”

“So drinks? There's a hot new bartender at that margarita place you like.”

“Maze!”

 

 

 

The funny part is that after all the keeping secrets and not telling Decker who she's been banging, _he's_ the one who slips. Maze doesn't know the details or why he does it. Doesn't think she even really cares. All she knows is that she comes home one evening to a very upset Decker.

It doesn't go well. Not that any of the times Decker corners her ever do. But this one ends with Maze packing up her shit and storming out of the house. But in her defense: she only breaks two windows on her way out.

“Hypocrite!” Maze snaps when she storms all the way to his place. “So she can fuck my ex but I can't fuck hers? What kind of fucked up human logic does she operate under?”

He frowns. “She seriously kicked you out over us?”

“Didn't give her the chance,” Maze says, tossing her bag of clothes on his couch. “But she would have. Decker's dramatic like that.”

He stare at her for a beat, opens his mouth, and then shuts it. He shakes his head. “I'll make room for your stuff in the closet.”

“Don't bother,” she says flatly. “I'll find a place. One that doesn't involve a human who's currently fucking Lucifer.”

A beat passes.

“Well,” he says slowly. “Until then, I'll make sure half the closet is empty for you.”

Yeah, okay, whatever.

 

 

 

“Wow,” Linda says when Maze tells her what happened.

“Right?” Maze says, aggressively sharpening her knife. “Can you believe her?”

Linda rolls her eyes. “Okay, I'm just going to go ahead and skip past the part where we acknowledge your equally dramatic reaction to me and Amenadiel, because I really want to get back to the part where you moved in with Pierce.”

“ _Moved in_? I didn't _move in_ with him. I just went there because I had nowhere else to go. It was convenient.”

“Right,” Linda says. “Because it's not like you could have gone to hotel. Or, say, a friend's place or anything.”

“Exactly,” Maze says. “It was the only place.”

Linda rolls her eyes.

 

 

 

“ _I'm sorry_ ,” Decker’s voicemail says when Maze screens her call for the sixth time. “ _I shouldn't have reacted like that. You and Pierce were right – I don't get to talk about your dating life. Especially since you've been more than accommodating to me and Lucifer. So, I'm sorry. Your room is still here. If you want it_.”

Maze frowns when she listens to it late that night, lying naked in bed. She looks over at him, equally naked, flipping through some case file on a serial killer.

“Did you tell Decker we're dating?”

Bastard doesn't even look up. “I just reminded her that who I choose to be date is none of her business.”

She frowns. “So you did. You told her we're dating.”

He finally glances up and gives her that same confused human scrunched eyebrow look Linda sometimes does. “ _That's_ the part of this you're hung up on?” he asks, putting his file on the table next to him. “Mazikeen, it's been eight months. We go on dates, you bring me rocks, you stopped sleeping with other people...”

“When did I agree to stop doing that?”

He raises a brow. “Are you sleeping with other people?”

She presses her lips together. “That's not the point.”

“That's kind of the whole point,” he says and she can just tell he's trying not to smile. “That’s what happens when you exclusively date one person.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

“Shut up,” she says.

“Yes, dear.”

She frowns. “I hate you.”

This time he does grin. He leans forward and kisses her once, his lips just grazing over hers enough to be a tease. “Whatever you say,” he breathes against her.

God damn it, she thinks as she catches his mouth, pulling him back.

This human will be the end of her.

 

 

 

“You should stay here,” he says later, his arms wrapped around her, almost like he's holding onto her because he's scared she's going to run off on him. “Not because you don't want to go back to Decker's and not because it's more convenient for you to be here. You should stay because we both want you to.”

She lifts her head slightly and stares at him. There's this look on his face that's almost… _tender_.

After a beat she settles back and says, “Yeah, sure. I'll get right on that.”

Marcus smiles.


End file.
